


all we have is time.

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Series: Spideychelle Week 2020 Ya'll [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, Spideychelle Week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: And then she’s gone and before MJ can gather her very well worn disinterested stare, Peter’s eyes find her and he smiles at her.Fuck him, honestly.Spideychelle Week Day 2: Soulmate AU
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spideychelle Week 2020 Ya'll [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796143
Comments: 70
Kudos: 106
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	1. give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention

**Author's Note:**

> It seems my theme is procrastinating horribly and banging out all my fics day of. Who knew?

Well, let’s just get to it.

Upon their 12th birthday, every person receives a soulmate clock. No one quite knows where they come from and it always shows up in a place where only their intended recipient will find it.

When the clocks first started appearing, people believed that they were meant to tell you when you’d meet your soulmate.

Humanity is inherently good after all.

When the first story broke of a car accident where the driver passed away but was survived by her boyfriend, everyone said it was just a coincidence that his clock had run out too.

People had made excuses left and right, but the coincidences had kept happening and eventually everyone had accepted the truth.

Your soulmate clock is actually a countdown of how long your soulmate has to live.

Fucking, great.

MJ notices that her clock has _way_ less time than she thinks is normal, but she has no way of knowing. Clocks are private things.

Her older brother’s clock has 55 years left on it for Christ's sake. Not that she’s seen it.

And she tries not to fixate (she’s only 12. Like give a kid a break, will ya?), but 2.5 years? TWO AND A HALF YEARS? It just seems...unfair.

She’ll be 13 in a few days and she just wonders how...she wonders what she’s supposed to know about love at this age.

How could she ever truly appreciate what being in love is even at age 15?

 _It’s **not** fair,_ she decides.

And then the unthinkable happens.

She’s pretty much given up at this point. Resigning herself to loner status and not even trying to figure it out anymore by the time she’s in high school.

Michelle had decided to keep to herself after the first few days where all the girls she knew from middle school suddenly only cared about narrowing down whose clock they matched.

The last time she looked at her own clock around Christmas time, there’d only been 45 days left and it was at that moment she’d shoved it deep into her closet.

Near the back, and underneath a bunch of old clothes and shoes that she should really be trying to donate now that she’d started high school and wouldn’t be caught dead in a Hello Kitty t-shirt ever again in her life.

At least not _publicly._

She manages to make it through Valentine’s Day mostly unscathed, keeping her head down and focusing on her grades and trying to decide whether she wants to join academic decathlon or not.

“Are you excited for your field trip?” It takes her a full 20 seconds to realize that the person is talking to her.

She looks up from her position on the hallway floor to see Liz Allan smiling down at her (albeit a little skeptically). MJ knows that Liz is the captain of the decathlon team so for this reason alone, she humors her.

“Yeah...thrilled,” she quips with a quick raise of her eyebrows.

Liz is unphased and MJ respects that.

“Cool, well… I’ve been scouting the teachers about which freshmen I need on my team next year and all but 1 teacher mentioned your name so...are you interested?”

Straight to the point. MJ respects that too. She’d honestly not given a whole lot of thought to who was actually on the academic decathlon team, but she figures Liz seems okay.

“I’d be willing to give it a try,” MJ tells her and has to stop from smiling when Liz does a little hop at her answer.

She’s got a reputation after all.

“Okay, great!” Liz tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and MJ notices (not for the first time) that she’s very pretty.

She’s exactly the kind of girl MJ doesn’t even dream she’d ever get to be and Liz pulls it off seemingly without even trying.

“Awesome. I’ll catch up with you before summer to give you the reading list,” Liz tells her, already backing away. “Have fun! Enjoy your trip."

It’s almost comical how the words line up because at that very moment Peter Parker does just that, _trips_ right into Liz as she finally turns her back to MJ.

“OH!” Liz is startled, gripping onto Peter’s shoulders and Peter looks as if he might combust right then and there.

He seems to have only just realized that he’d also reached out to steady whomever had fallen victim to his clumsiness and Michelle can practically hear the sirens going off in his head as he notices who exactly he’d steadied.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention at all,” he says, finally extracting himself from her. MJ doesn’t care (so she claims), but she can’t look away from the exchange for some reason. It’s an odd pull that she can’t explain.

Liz giggles a little, tucking that same strand of hair behind her ear again and Peter blushes a deep red.

_What? Is that her move or something?_

The bitter thought surprises her. She’s never been the type to tear down other girls for any reason. It’s not her style but just the same, the thought lingers as she continues studying their exchange.

“That’s okay, I was looking for you next anyways. Every teacher I spoke to said I needed ‘Peter Parker’ on AcaDec next year. So how ‘bout it?”

Peter reaches up to ruffle his own hair nervously, and Michelle sees the way Liz leans in a little closer as Peter considers her.

“Uh, yeah? That sounds pretty good I think.” Peter’s been very interested in his shoes for most of this conversation but the moment he looks up Liz, hand still settled behind his head, there’s a whisper of confidence.

Gone as quickly as it came, but enough for Liz to squeeze his arm briefly in thanks. “Uh, great. I’ll um-catch up with you then?”

He’s just a little breathless when he says, “Great.” And then she’s gone and before MJ can gather her very well worn disinterested stare, Peter’s eyes find her and he smiles at her.

Fuck him, honestly.

She almost feels bad for thinking it when Peter has to leave their Oscorp field trip early because he’s not feeling well.

Almost.

He’d fallen flat to the floor suddenly, crying out as they’d been making their way through the lab and like, _dramatic much_?

Michelle can admit that he’d seemed to genuinely be in pain, but she doesn’t actually care.

Whatever weird energy she was feeling from him earlier that day doesn’t change the fact that...they’re not friends.

So really, she doesn’t lose sleep over it.

The next day, MJ finds herself motivated to empty out her closet. She’s got nothing better to do on a Saturday and she got a full blissful 8 hours, so she makes herself a cup of tea and gets to it.

Michelle’s about halfway through her project and a quarter of the way through an old Panic! At the Disco album when she finds it.

There, buried underneath a pair of sweatpants and that fucking Hello Kitty shirt, is her soulmate clock.

And it’s at 0:00.

She plops herself down on the floor next to her bed and just...stares at it. She can’t hear the music anymore and by the time she’s able to move again, her tea’s gone cold.

MJ had always known that this would happen, but she feels a weight settle over her and a little of her hope leave when she remembers this person was supposed to be perfect for her.

And she never even got to meet them.

Her brother chooses that exact moment to poke his head in to say, “Hey I’m going out just wanted to-”

Jamal stops short and she sees his eyes track down and just a little to the left of her and her stomach churns.

The clock.

Michelle had snuck into her brother’s room when he was away at camp for the summer when she caught that glimpse of his clock all those years ago.

It’s not something people usually just leave lying around.

Clocks are deeply personal and most people like to keep them locked away for safety until they can be proudly displayed right next to their match.

“The Hanging of the Clocks” became a Pinterest thing that all the young brides were doing a few years back.

MJ could never.

Jamal steps fully into her room and approaches her like an animal he’s trying not to spook. His eyes are focused on her now, but they keep darting back to the clock next to her every few seconds.

“MJ, how-what does this mean?” she can hear him but his words are thick, muted in her ears.

_“She didn't choose this role_   
_But she'll play it and make it sincere”_

The music continues to play on around them and MJ feels like she can’t breathe.

Her body pitches forward and Jamal is at her side in an instant. She’s gasping, dragging in greedy breaths of nothing but anguish, finally feeling the weight of her loss.

Jamal presses his hands on either side of her face, desperate. He’s talking to her; she knows it, but it doesn’t matter.

It can’t.

There’s just not enough air. She can remember a time when breathing was effortless and now? Here, now she’s barely able to keep herself from passing out.

But maybe that would be better. At least then she wouldn’t have to feel this.

_“So you cry, you cry_   
_(Give me a break)”_

The sob bursts out of her and Jamal cradles her closer. His arms are strong and she presses her face into his shoulder. Hot angry tears soak into his t-shirt but she doesn’t care and he doesn’t stop her.

“Michelle, please. Please breathe. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s meant to be soothing, to reassure her. He doesn’t know much his words sting her instead.

She’s never told anyone about her clock. She didn’t want their pity. She didn’t want the questions.

“I don’t- I never thought,” she struggles, lips trembling, “ It isn’t _fair,_ Jamie! They’re already gone.”

Her brother pulls back at that, scrutinizing her in confusion. She doesn't understand. He’s seen the clock. He’s seen her zeroes.

“MJ, I don’t know how I can help but I will.” Jamal shakes his head clear as he says, “I just don’t understand. I’ve...never seen this before.”

Her sobs quiet down as a wry laugh escapes her completely against her will.

“It’s pretty straight forward, Jamal,” she snaps and she knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s here and she’s pissed. “ _My_ clock only had a few years on it and now it’s over…” she trails off.

MJ hazards a glance at his face and he looks even more confused at her explanation. He hands her a tissue and takes a deep breath as she dabs halfheartedly at her eyes.

“Michelle,” he coaxes, reaching for the clock, but she won’t look.

She can’t...

It isn’t until he shoves it into her lap that she sees what he’s seen. There; the truth. Plain as day.

She thinks she must be seeing things so she swipes fiercely at the tears still clouding her vision, but nothing changes.

_“But they believe it from the tears...”_

It's counting up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Time to Dance" by...you guessed it, Panic! At the Disco. Their first album is literally favorite and now that I've successfully aged myself, Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at michellesbohh:)


	2. so it'll be what it'll be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She notices how the lights seem to dim and flicker the same way a light bulb would just before it’s about to go out. And even then, the numbers climb.
> 
> It’s with shaking fingers that she gently places the clock on her side table and slumps back against the bed.
> 
> “What the fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it is I. This story has morphed into something bigger than I had anticipated so there'll be at least 1-2 more chapters I think. 
> 
> BIG BIG THANK YOU to my dearest @klassmartin (mjonesing on tumblr) for all of her help fleshing out this story and for listening to me whine about it for the last month and a half. xo

The realization, that feeling of warmth and relief- it never comes. She stares down at the round clock, admiring it’s smooth edges and the blue ring of light that circles the inside of the screen.

It feels like she’s seeing it for the first time. She stares at it, sure she’s hallucinating when she sees the numbers jump from 6 minutes to an hour in the blink of an eye. She wonders if it will ever turn red for her.

She notices how the lights seem to dim and flicker the same way a light bulb would just before it’s about to go out. And even then, the numbers climb.

It’s with shaking fingers that she gently places the clock on her side table and slumps back against the bed.

“What the fuck.”

It’s not a question like it should be and Jamal shifts until he mirrors her stance and sighs.

Michelle leans her head against his, hiding her face in his shoulder and looping an arm through his to get closer. She hates this feeling of being exposed- seen.

She’s always known deep down that Jamal would be there for her if she asked, but MJ hadn’t wanted to have to face this and it’s easier to forget something only you know.

There’s no one who can remind you.

She feels on edge, like an exposed nerve as she watches the flash of the clock out of the corner of her eye. It reminds her of how someone had stolen her journal from her backpack in 5th grade where she’d written her most private thoughts, most notably about the blossoming crush she’d had on one of her classmates.

When she’d had to get up to present her book report to the class later that day, the eyes on her, knowing-watching, had made her skin crawl. She figures this is kind of the same feeling.

“I mean- yeah.” He’s not sure what else to say, but Michelle hums so he figures that must’ve been enough for her.

Michelle begins tracing makeshift lines against her jeans and she watches as the sun crawls it’s way across her bedroom floor until all she sees is a pretty pinkish orange glow through her window.

She startles when Jamal’s phone rings and she catches a glimpse at the time. It’s been hours.

Jamal goes to decline the call when she sits up suddenly, “You had plans, right?” she asks, stretching her legs out in front of her and smirking when she sees how much farther they stretch than his.

“I mean- yeah ( _Articulate_ , she teases), but this seemed more important?”

“Yeah, but there’s not much you can do for me and my...” she gestures vaguely, “...weirdness.”

He laughs at that, standing and holding out a hand to help her up. “MJ, we both know there’s nothing anyone can do for your vast stores of weirdness...”

Once she’s up, he just looks at her, and she can feel him scanning her for any signs that she might break again as he still presses a little more sincerely, “But I can be here?”

Michelle does her best to convince him, and according to her studies, her best is a crooked smile and the finger,” I appreciate it, but go. I’ve got this...whatever this is.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he’s also 17 and if he leaves now he can still make it to the end of the outing he’d been willing to skip. When his phone rings again, she pushes him playfully and he finally relents.

“Alright. Just...you call me alright?” he insists, backing towards her bedroom door, “ With whatever.”

MJ has a rare moment of sincerity when she whispers, “I will.” And then he’s gone and Michelle waits until she hears the sound of his keys jingling and the door clicking shut before she breathes out.

* * *

  
She tries (tries) not to let it consume her.

She gets through the rest of the school year relatively unscathed and when sophomore year starts, it’s almost like she’s forgotten.

Okay, not really but affirmation is the first step to believing. She definitely hasn’t taken to keeping the clock in the drawer of her night table and she definitely doesn’t check it every night before bed.

It’s not that she’s overly concerned, she just wants to make sure it’s in good working order. A few days after it started counting up, she’d noticed it slowing down until finally it’d stopped.

It’d been a random Tuesday and thankfully her brother had been in his room doing god knows what when she’d discovered it. It’d been late anyways and so Michelle had known she wouldn’t be disturbed even though her lights had still been on.

**1 YEAR 7 MONTHS 2 WEEKS 05 DAYS 04 HOURS 47 MINUTES 50 SECONDS**

The numbers had flashed blue 3 times in succession before returning to their original neon sort of green color and she’d laughed bitterly- a disappointment she’d come to know well settling in where hope had dared to take root as the seconds had begun to drop.

_50, 49, 48, 47, 46..._

“This,” she’d declared, glancing over at the clock now tucked back into her nightstand drawer, “is that _bullshit_.”

* * *

“Let’s discuss covalent bonds!”

Michelle rolls her eyes as her teacher begins a rousing, but remedial, explanation on the topic at hand.

“This is pretty easy stuff, huh?” Peter whispers across the aisle. She shoots him questioning glare (that very clearly says _why are you talking to me)_ , but he just smiles that smile again and she finds herself wanting to make conversation.

(Honestly, Jones? _Any_ semblance of self-control…)

She doesn’t know why Peter chose to sit next her for this period (and every other period they share), but she supposes when she thinks about it, it doesn’t seem horrible.

Not that she thinks about it. (She does.)

“Yeah, I was reciting this stuff straight outta preschool,” she jokes weakly and something warm settles into her bones when Peter grins.

She finds it hard not to stare at the curve of his lips as they pull up to one side in a subtle smirk. Idle musings of how those lips might feel pressed against her own quickly invade her mind, and her cheeks flush, betraying her inner thoughts.

When she shakes herself out whatever trance his lips have trapped her in, Peter’s looking at her with a different kind of interest and she shivers visibly when their eyes meet.

MJ feels all the muscles in her body relaxing, so much so that the pen she’s holding slips out of her grip, and a few hours from now MJ will curse this moment.

Like some kind of movie cliche, they both reach for the stupid pen. It’s a slightly flashy felt tip wonder with gold accents that she has been using every day since sophomore year started.

Peter has seen her with it more times than she can count, and this might seem like an innocuous detail, but in days to come it will prove most irksome to MJ.

Their fingers brush and she would swear the entire room skipped a beat.

There’s no excuse for the rushing in her ears, for the soft nearly inaudible sigh that breezes past her lips. One that Peter very obviously still hears if the way he snaps his eyes up to hers is any indication.

Her skin buzzes in response to his and she snatches her hand back. She _has_ to.

She folds in on herself just a little, slouching until she’s curtained by the tangles of her hair. Peter is looking at her so intensely, jaw set and eyebrows furrowed.

She can’t meet his eyes.

MJ decides that taking back her pen and facing forward is a good enough way to end this weird interaction, but she’s wrong.

She can’t quite explain it, but after their fingers graze, she feels an acute sense of longing; something that makes her very afraid for what it might mean.

Something that hadn’t been, no- couldn’t have been there before for how hollow and bereft she feels without it.

And what is it anyways? Is it his touch? Just him? She doesn’t know and she feels dizzy- sick to her stomach a little as her mind spins web after web of what if’s?.

Peter clears his throat and leans a little closer, “Uh- your pen…” He holds out the offending item and Michelle eyes it suspiciously- like it’s betrayed her somehow.

It kinda feels like it has.

“Thanks, Parker.”

She carefully extracts it from his delicate grip (taking extra care to avoid any skin to skin contact), and tucks the pen into the front pocket of her back pack.

With that, she resolves not to spend any more time talking to him. It doesn’t mean she can’t feel his eyes on her for the rest of the period.

By the time they get to decathlon though, it’s like nothing has happened. She sits as far away from him as possible, back up against the wall at the furthest corner of the stage.

Once he’s again distracted (or Liz-matized as she and Sally have started whispering), it seems like whatever odd sensation has calmed for the most part, though she still feels unsettled.

Her head tilts in interest when Peter practically bounds over to Mr. Harrington just as Liz has started to drill her teammates on stage. She can just barely make out their hushed conversation from where she's sitting. 

_“Can’t you take just one weekend off?”_   
_-”I can’t go to DC. I have to be here if Mr. Stark needs me…”_

She’s not proud of her eavesdropping, and she’s pretty stoked when Flash draws attention to the pair so she can watch and listen freely.

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark!”

And just like that everyone’s attention is on Peter, most notably their captain, Liz's laser focus has been shifted from the questions in front of her.

“What’s going on?” she demands with the quiet sort of authority MJ wishes she could summon.

Sally sighs from her position on the floor, “Peter’s not going to Washington.”

Liz frowns, “Really, right before nationals?” She looks truly disappointed and the way Peter regards her sets MJ’s blood simmering.

So much so that she voluntarily calls attention to herself which is a thing that she...doesn’t do.

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab.” It’s silent then and she sees Peter looking at her in that way again. It’s too much to take with so many eyes on her and she feels the need to defend herself.

“I’m not obsessed with him...just very observant.” Sure, MJ.

Whatever the conversation devolves into, Mr. Harrington and Liz both realize that the afternoon is lost and call an end to the practice.

Michelle has never been one to linger, but when she sees Peter huddled up near the back exit talking to Liz, she makes herself scarce with the quickness.

Her ride on the subway is bumpier than usual and her earbuds keep popping out every time she turns her head to check the stop. It’s annoying and just enough to distract her from the pit growing in her stomach.

She doesn’t even like Peter _like that_. At least she didn’t think she did until 16 ways to jump his weirdly buff nerd body floated into her mind simply because he touched her fucking finger.

When she gets home, once she enters her bedroom, that ache she’d felt earlier returns, but it’s become more of a persistent throb.

She presses down on her chest, feeling the weight of her hands and using that pressure to ground her as she steps closer to her night table.

She knows the clock has changed again. Every sensation in her body is screaming it at her.

She feels the doubts and whispers of insecurity hissing in her ears.

_(You’re not good enough for a soulmate.)_   
_(That’s why they keep dying. )_

She thinks of how she’d felt when she’d seen the zeroes. She thinks of how desperate she’d been as she’d watched the numbers begin to climb again.

At the last moment, she inexplicably thinks of Peter. Of his kind spirit and warm gaze. Of his caring heart.

She thinks of his smile as she wrenches open the top drawer.

She sees red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much (!) for reading!!!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @michellesbohh and say how goes it! 
> 
> Comments and kudos save lives lol


	3. make up your mind (between two rooms)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter watches curiously as Ned examines the clock, running his fingers over the smooth surface and turning it all around like the scientist he is.
> 
> He is...uncharacteristically subdued as he gently places it back into the box with a deep sigh, “Oh, Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! I don't know if I've ever updated so quickly so thanks to you guys for all the encouragement! 
> 
> Again special thanks to @klassmartin (mjonesing)<333
> 
> Title this chapter taken from "Poetry by Dead Men" by Sara Bareilles as I was listening to her whole album while writing this chapter. 
> 
> AND OUR BOI IS HERE! It's a Peter POV, ya'll. I hope you enjoy!

“LET ME SEE IT!” Ned is practically vibrating as he bounds into the Parker apartment, barely glancing at May who’s watching the two of them with an amused sort of smile.

She clears her throat with a raised eyebrow and Ned turns quickly and rushes, “Sorry, May. Hi, May,” before grabbing hold of Peter’s arm. They’re almost to Peter’s room before May stops them.

“Easy boys, there’ll be plenty of time for playing love connection after we’ve had some cake,” she says pointedly. “ 12 is a big year after all.”

Peter squirms as May ruffles his hair before kissing the top of his head when he comes to sit back at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry your uncle’s not here, Pete. You know how work is…” she adds quietly.

He does know and when he sees the brand new microscope May places next to his empty cake plate, he has a feeling he knows why his uncle’s been working so much.

It’s absolutely the most basic model you can get, but it’s new and it’s his and that’s enough.

Peter loves May and Ben like they were his own parents and he gets up to pull her into a hug with a whispered thank you before he and Ned bound off to his room.

“Okay. Where is it?”

He’s barely got the door to his bedroom shut before Ned’s back to his original mission.

“Dude,” Peter scoffs, turning to see Ned perched on his bottom bunk watching eagerly as he crosses over to his closet and pulls out a box.

“I’m sorry man, but this is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to us!”

Ned won’t get his own clock for another few months, so Peter understands his excitement though he can’t say that he shares it.

Still, they’re best friends and they don’t keep secrets so he crosses to his closet and rummages until he finds what he’s looking for.

The box doesn’t look like anything special, but it holds all the birthday cards he’d ever received over the years, including the few he’d gotten from his parents before their accident.

It’s his most valuable possession and so at midnight he’d known exactly where to look to find his clock.

“It’s not that exciting man…” he cushions before pulling out the circular device and handing it to Ned.

**3 YEARS 10 MONTHS 2 WEEKS 05 DAYS 02 HOURS 45 MINUTES 15 SECONDS**

Neither of them speaks as the reality of the situation settles on them.

Even though May had made it clear that he didn’t have to share his clock with anyone (even her), Peter is happy to have a friend in this- someone to help carry this burden.

Peter watches curiously as Ned examines the clock, running his fingers over the smooth surface and turning it all around like the scientist he is.

He is...uncharacteristically subdued as he gently places it back into the box with a deep sigh, “Oh, _Peter.”_

* * *

“Have fun! Enjoy your trip.”

He hears the words and somewhere in his mind he even registers that he needs to slow down, but that doesn’t stop him from running smack into one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen.

Liz Allan. Peter has seen her around a few times and never dreamed that he’d get to talk to her. He figured that attempted crippling is a decent icebreaker, but that might just be because it’s already happened.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention at all,” he says, finally extracting himself from her. His face burns as he slips his hands from around her hips and puts a respectable distance between them.

Liz giggles a little, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and Peter blushes deeply as a warm buzzing feeling tugs at his stomach.  
.  
He’s never been this close to her before and the proximity is scrambling his thoughts. He shakes out his head quickly, refocusing when he realizes Liz is talking to him.  
“That’s okay, I was looking for you next anyways…” His heart thumps at that.

“Every teacher I spoke to said I needed ‘Peter Parker’ on AcaDec next year. So how ‘bout it?”

Peter reaches up to ruffle his own hair absentmindedly and definitely not missing how Liz leans in a little closer (he sees her feet shuffle forward slightly).

“Uh, yeah? That sounds pretty good I think.”

He’s been too preoccupied with his own freak out to meet her eyes, but for a moment he manages and she looks pleased as she smiles at him, reaching out to squeeze his arm briefly in thanks.

“Uh, great. I’ll um-catch up with you then?”

He’s just a little breathless when he says, “Great.” He watches as she saunters down the hall but something nags at him and he darts his eyes around, searching.

When he sees her looking, he smiles. Michelle is in his class and he thinks she’s cool in a way that he knows he could never pull off. She looks insulted and offended that she’s been caught staring, her grimace deepening when he’d smiled at her.

When he frowns she smirks and turns back to the book she’s reading until it’s time to board the bus for their field trip where she finds her seat at the way back.

Peter plops down into a seat and pulls a leg up as he leans his back against the window, grunting when Ned slides in after him.

“I think...I think I met her, man,” he whispers, disbelievingly. The small smile on his face dropping instantly when Ned registers what he’s said.

“WHAT! WHO?!” Ned practically shouts, wincing when Peter smacks him in the arm.

He sees that Cindy and Sally a few rows ahead have both turned to glare at them, but it seems his outburst has gone otherwise unnoticed.

The look on Ned’s face is apologetic as he continues at a more reasonable volume, “Who? When? Peter this is _huge_!”

“Hey, I know.”

He knows.

As thrilling as it is that he might’ve met her, the dark part of his brain nags a reminder that _he only has a couple years if he’s right._

Ned seems to be catching up to him on a 20 second delay because his expression dampens right along with Peter’s.

“Wow, dude…” And Peter knows exactly what he means. “Well, what happened?”

Peter finds his smile again at that and tells Ned all about his encounter with Liz in the hallway. He feels giddy just talking about it, that same feeling tugging somewhere inside him.

When he glances over to his right, he catches Michelle looking at him again as he finishes up his story. He manages to hold her eyes locked in his for a second before she quickly looks away.

“I just...felt something.”

* * *

Okay. So something has gone very very wrong.

Peter is a relatively healthy kid. Doesn’t get sick much and never has which is what makes his current predicament incredibly confusing.

“How’re you feeling, hon?” May presses a hand to his clammy forehead and pulls her lips to the side. “You’re still burning up, Pete.”

Yeah. He’s burning up. His insides feel insane. If he had to describe it, it’d be like if someone had grabbed hold of all his muscles and then pulled them out as far as they could before they shredded and snapped.

His lungs burn and every breath feels like daggers. He knows he has a fever but other than that, there’s no explanation for his sudden onset of illness.

May had taken him to his pediatrician the second they’d released him from the ER and he hadn’t been able to diagnose him with anything other than a severe and out of season case of the flu.

He hadn’t mentioned the feeling of fire running through every one of his veins. He hadn’t mentioned the taut rubber band feeling pulsing in his arms and legs.

He _definitely_ hadn’t mentioned the bite.

Peter is, objectively, a smart kid. He got into an elite science school and he understands how to come to logical conclusions.

He knows that the experiments they’d seen at Oscorp were part of an elite radioactive project and if he regrets anything, it’s that he hadn’t noticed the spider crawling on his hand before it’d managed to bite him.

Peter knows that something big is happening to him, but he and May have been through so much this past year. He doesn't want to worry her.

He smiles weakly as he starts to drift back into a fitful sleep. His last thought as he looks at her is that he can’t do that to her.

Peter tosses and turns until an exhaustion like he’s never felt washes over his body.

Across town a clock flashes 00:00.

Everything goes dark.

* * *

When Peter comes to, after a thorough examination by May, he waits until she heads off to work before going directly to his closet.

He finds his soulmate clock exactly where he’d left it, still intact, and curiously...still green.

Peter slumps down into his desk chair and thinks hard. He’d been so sure that Liz was it for him. That feeling in his stomach when he’d had her in his arms wasn’t nothing. He knows that.

He tries his best to recall everything about that moment- every nuance, every detail and that’s when it clicks.

_He’d only touched her at her waist through her sweater._

Breathing out a tense breath he relaxes, remembering that May had told him (in the same way parent’s give _the talk_ ) that soulmates don’t match until there’s bare skin contact.

Peter remembers blushing scarlet at the implications of that statement and how May’d pushed at his shoulder in playful exasperation.

She’d continued that it “doesn’t necessarily mean _that,_ Peter! It could be a hug where you place your hand at their neck. A hair ruffle,” she explained growing more wistful as she went on.

“You could bump hands with a stranger on the subway and never know who it was.”

That idea had sobered him and she’d reached across the table to take his hand. “It’s not a perfect system, Pete. But…” she’d trailed, glancing at her own wedding ring. “When it works, it’s worth it. It can be beautiful.”

Peter had thought about the love that had always been so present in his home growing up with May and Ben- that quiet kind assurance that settled into your bones and kept you warm even in the coldest times.

“May, uh-were my parents…” he’d wondered, not having too many strong memories of them, but remembering that warmth.

She’d squeezed his hand until he’d looked up at her, unshed tears mirroring his own, “They were.”

Peter knows he’s too young to be thinking about marriage and what a life with his soulmate would really be like, but he hopes he gets to have something like May and Ben, like his parents.

He thinks about what he knows about Liz and he likes her, but it doesn’t feel the way he’d thought it would.

_You just don’t know her yet,_ he tells himself, and he determines to try harder. He doesn’t want to waste his chance. 

Still, he can't help but feel like he's missing something profoundly important. 

* * *

“Did Liz get a new top?”

“No. We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt.”

Okay so this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when planned to “try harder,” but soulmate or not, Peter isn’t the best with talking to girls.

He and Ned have taken to simply watching Liz from afar as he tries to work up the courage to talk to her.

Peter sees her in decathlon a lot and that’s been a good way for him to not look like a complete dumbass in front of her, but things are...moving slowly to say the least.

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though…”

“Too late.” Peter startles, glancing down their lunch table to see Michelle Jones barely acknowledging them, with a glass mug (????) of tea and surrounded by a stack of books.

“You guys are losers.”

Her forced casual demeanor doesn’t match the way she’s unnecessarily inserted herself into their conversation nor does it explain why she’s suddenly become a presence at the far end of their table.

Michelle does not eat lunch with anyone, this much Peter is aware of due to the fact that he’s literally never even _seen_ her in the cafeteria before today.

That information combined with their odd interaction during Chemistry earlier has him rattled.

_Why did she decide to sit here today?_

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to be rude but it appears Ned doesn’t hold the same reservations.

“Well then why do you sit with us?”

“Cause I don’t have any friends.” It’s such a matter of fact answer that Peter finds himself staring even after she turns back to her book.

That buzzing feeling is swirling wildly in his stomach, and off to his left he hears Liz laughing and he smiles at the sound.

Every little tidbit about Liz he files away for him to dissect and memorize later, but he still can’t tear his eyes away from Michelle.

She doesn’t acknowledge them for the rest of the period and after school during decathlon, Peter sees her sitting to the side by herself again.

He doesn’t have time to analyze it further because he sees Mr. Harrington arriving for practice as Liz starts questioning his teammates on stage.

The conversation was meant to be private but...Flash gets wind and draws everyone’s attention to them in an instant.

The questions and disappointed stares start flying his way immediately and when Liz softly voices her own discontent, he feels his resolve slipping a little.

She meets his gaze and holds it, silently communicating the depth of her feelings only to be interrupted by an outburst from Michelle.

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab…” The comment comes out as if this is common knowledge, idly mentioned as she barely looks up from her book.

Like any one of them could have said it as easily as they could name the first 10 elements on the periodic table. She seems to have only just realized how she’d drawn the scrutiny to herself, with the same kind of forced nonchalance from earlier re-emerging.

“I’m not obsessed with him...just very observant.”

Liz sighs, but does what a captain does and presses on. “Flash, you’re in for Peter.”

Everyone seems to accept this explanation and move on to figuring out what other changes need to be made to accommodate Peter’s absence.

Everyone but Peter, that is. He tilts his head, never breaking from watching Michelle as he considers her words in his mind. She continues to pointedly keep her eyes fixed on her book, though he notices she hasn't turned a page since he started watching her.

It isn’t until Mr. Harrington is packing his bag and his classmates have started clearing out that he realizes practice is over and that he’d spent the last 5 minutes staring at Michelle.

“Peter, I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

He whips around, standing and shouldering his bag as Liz regards him skeptically. She starts moving towards the back of the auditorium to the door that lets out to the senior parking lot. Peter follows without prompting, trying to think of something- anything to say that would help her understand.

Peter hates disappointing his teammates like this, but with everything that’s happened this year, he has to be ready when Mr. Stark calls him.

Liz seems to realize she isn’t going to get a real answer to her questions and she reaches out once they reach the door, briefly squeezing his wrist as she smiles.

“Whatever the reason is for this, I hope it’s worth it.” And with that she turns to leave and Peter is frozen to the spot.

She’d touched him and he’d felt that spark, different than how he’d felt in chemistry earlier but similar, less intense.

Even after Liz leaves the feeling lingers and Peter turns just in time to see what he thinks is a mess of curls disappearing through the other entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that! Thanks so much for reading and supporting this story! Come find me on tumblr @michellesbohh!


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